Manhattan
by Dancer31496
Summary: 'The decision isn't one that she never saw herself making, it's just one that, in the early years, she couldn't fathom.'
1. Chapter 1

Inspired, clear to you if you're a Sara fan, by Sara Bareilles Manhattan.

There was just something about this song, and I couldn't figure out what exactly it was, besides the fact that it's Sara Bareilles so of course it's beautiful and genius and I'm obsessed, that kept drawing me back in. I kept listening to it, over and over, pretty much at least two or three times a day, till finally, literally one night lying in bed blogging about them pesky ole otps of mine, I realized that it reminded me of Liv and El. Obvious reason, Manhattan, less obvious but still really obvious reason is that if somehow some way both Liv and El ended up living in Manhattan, aka after that divorce he got after he left svu, even though that's so not where this is set, cause come on we all know Kath wouldn't be able to handle having him around that much, especially not with that not so well oiled, kinda not functioning so hot head of his you know he'd have, she's the one I saw leaving. After all, she's the runner. *Cough cough* Oregon.

Anyway, so I figure out it's them that keeps drawing me back, so, what else to do? But write this kinda half assed just cause it's not betaed and it kinda changes pov down there towards the end for a while and it's really probably not the best cause I kinda just wrote as it came and didn't really think about it, story. Yay, me!

Wow, a London Tipton moment. Low.

Okay, so back on track. It's set sometime season twelve, post season twelve but only if Jenna hadn't happened cause I ain't even trying deal with that cause this story's a hot mess all of its own, I don't know. Just, somewhere in their twelfth year of partnership cause that's just what came out and sadly, up until the end, was one of their less dramatic years. Now that's saying a lot. But its multi chapter, but as of now, I got no idea how many. Like a said, spur of the moment, mid lying in bed, mid blogging plot bunnie/song inspiration.

So yeah, now that I drug that out _way_ too long, sorry, y'all, Enjoy!

R&R, babes, it's always appreciated.

Disclaimer: Nope.

**Oh, btws,** I do recommend at least listening to the song first, you don't have to listen to it while you read, cause the story is slightly, maybe a bit more than slightly, longer than the song. But give it a listen first, cause it'll give ya an idea of what's going on here.

* * *

_**You can have Manhattan, I know it's for the best.**_

_**I'll gather up the Avenues and leave them on your door step.**_

_**I'll tip toe away, so you don't have to say, you heard me leave.**_

The decision isn't one that she _never _saw herself making, it's just one that, in the early years, she couldn't fathom. Moving from the city that, even in its darkest hours, its cruelest days, its harshest nights, still somehow brought her joy. Taking every lesson she ever learned, every hard fall on her ass, and every triumph she was lucky enough to get, and pack them all up in her suit case and take off for sun, sand and warm air. And a coast that didn't contain him.

_**You can have Manhattan, I know it's what you want.**_

_**The bustle and the buildings, the weather in the fall.**_

_**And I'll bow out of place, to save you some space, for somebody new.**_

_**You can have Manhattan, cause I can't have you.**_

There was a time where even leaving Manhattan terrified her, because her love for it burrowed so deep. A time where not living 3 minutes from constant coffee or a terrible but convenient hotdog, or living in a place where you couldn't order Chinese at 3 in the morning, made her stomach churn. But she'll probably always say it, no matter what it is, or no matter what happens, he's always changed a situation. Any situation, every situation, his presence in her life and her mind has always altered and affected things. From day one. And it just got progressively worse over the years. Chronic reason number 4,000 why she's still, and mostly always has been for the last 12 years, single.

He met someone new. 6 months after his divorce was final, at a coffee shop, their coffee shop, before work one morning. Her names Amanda. She's a Vet. It makes her want to throw up.

They've lasted three months. Sometimes it really hurts her heart, and sometimes it makes her want to deck him in the face. Sometimes it makes her want to deck herself in the face.

_**You can have Manhattan, the one we used to share.**_

_**The one where we were laughing and, drunk on just being there.**_

_**Hang on to the reverie, could you do that for me?**_

_**Cause I'm just too sad to.**_

_**You can have Manhattan, cause I can't have you.**_

When he moved, he moved six blocks from her. It was nice, having her best friend in walking distance. It made getting that drink after work that they never used to actually get, a lot easier. Sometimes it made her feel guilty though, because she felt like he should be home calling his kids or doing something else Catholic that didn't feel so sinful. But sometimes she just enjoyed her best friend. And sometimes she waited for the other shoe to drop because it was all just too damn good to be true.

_**And so it goes, one foot after the other, til black and white begins to color in.**_

_**And I know, that holding us in place is simply fear, of what's already changed.**_

It shifted one day. It shifted and everything fell the hell apart. Her world spun around and knocked its self-off its axis, and everything started to hurt. He corned her in the locker room one day because she had been acting snippy and bitchy towards him all day and he 'wanted to know why, damn it.' She had no idea what to tell him. She knew why, and it was 5'2, tiny, blonde, so severely her partner's type that she couldn't take it, and had just been here to have lunch with him. He started naming all these things, all these things he thought it could be, asking her what he did wrong cause he was sick and damn tired of her attitude and he, oh so very Elliot like, wanted to fix what he wronged. She couldn't get the words to come out of her mouth quick enough to tell him before he guessed. She doesn't think she's ever looked so shocked or horrified in an unwork related social setting, ever. He saw the surprise flit onto her face, but he saw the guilt too. He knew he was right and it pissed her off and terrified her at the same time. She was busted and she had no way out, she was suffocating.

He tilted his head and squinted his eyes and did that thing he does when he's got her in his hands and he knows it, and he backed her further against the locker she was standing in front of when he busted in behind her.

"It's Amanda, isn't it?" He asked her, tilting his head even further, and raising his signature eyebrow.

"No, Elliot, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Don't lie to me, Olivia." She doesn't think she ever remembers his voice going that low. He takes two more steps, then makes another shuffle.

"What's so wrong with her, huh?"

"Nothing, El. Not a damn thing."

"No really, tell me. Is it cause she's happy and not so damn cynical all the damn time? Because she _doesn't_ think the whole damn worlds so dark?"

"Talk about calling the damn kettle black." She mumbled.

"Or is it because she's with me?" Revise that earlier statement about a surprised look. This one takes the cake.

"You literally have to be kidding me."

"Yeah, Liv. Do I though?"

He's close enough now that she's pressed so hard against the locker that she can feel the combination lock digging into her ass.

But then he floors her again.

His hands come up beside her, one on each side of her head, and he leans in.

"Are you really that jealous? Or is there more?" Eyes squinting again.

Silence. She can hardly hear herself think above her heart beating so loud, let alone speak.

"Don't tell me it's because you always thought it would be you?" Head tilting again. He's got her now and she can see he knows it.

"You always thought you'd be my rebound."

Confusion, nervousness, hurt, fear. All swirling around in her head so fast she could hardly stand. She didn't know what to do, how to move, how to get away from him. How to bail before he saw through her last little bit of reverence she had left.

He locked eyes with her and she felt him slowly start to shift. The he was gone, standing a good 5 inches back from her. He started shaking his head and moving further away from her. Pulling a signature move and running his hand up over his face and back down the back of his head a few times.

"Un uh. I love you too damn much for that, Liv. Woulda thought you'd known better."

Her breath caught in her throat for a second, and she lost all ability to think at all, but when her cognizance returned to her, her brain grasped what he must mean. And she understood. Or so she thought.

"I love you too, El. But-"

"No."

"What?'

"No. I don't think you get it, Olivia."

"Sure I do, it's just-"

"No you don't." He moves back toward her and slams his hands back up beside her.

"Damn it, I'm in love with you Olivia and I don't know why the hell you refuse to fucking see that. But I'm tired of it. I'm tired of waiting for you to get it, or for you to get over the damn guilt I know you're feeling or to finally stop dancing around it and get to the fucking point."

"I waited because I know you're the runner and I wasn't going to scare off the only chance I might ever have but I got tired of waiting, Liv. I got tired of waiting so when Amanda asked for my number I thought what the hell, what could it hurt? But apparently I should have just told her that yes I was available, but no she couldn't have my number because I'm in love with my partner who refuses to acknowledge what's there between us. I don't really know, Liv. But I do know that I'm still tired of waiting and I'm not gonna wait anymore."

"So here's your chance now. Run." He stood back and opened up his arms, offering me an opening out. I didn't take it. Instead I just stood there looking dumb founded and confused. Maybe a little in love, too.

I guess my silence and my stillness gave him the answer he needed, because then he had me pressed hard against the locker again and his face was in front mine and his eyes were locking with mine and his head was leaning in closer, and closer, and closer, and my heart was beating faster, and faster, and faster, then he was kissing me. Passionate and fast and hard and wonderful and I don't think another kiss like that with anyone one else out there could ever exist.

_**You can have Manhattan, I'll settle for the beach.**_

_**And sunsets facing westward, with sand beneath my feet.**_

_**I'll wish this way, this missing of days, when I was one half of two.**_

_**You can have Manhattan, cause I can't have you.**_

Thinking back on that day, it makes it twice as hard leaving, and it makes it twice as easy. Never really definite, always somewhere in between there but with and undertone of gone. Like them, partners, and friends, but oh so much more. Something that started in her heart and that she could never quite put a label on. Something that pushed her and pulled her, rose her up and knocked her back down again. This ever persistent tugging at her heart that made he want to jump in the Hudson, just to take a swim sometimes. Her plan all along was to leave it all behind, forget about it, every single thing about it, about them, about all the hurt and love and anger and passion and just create this wonderful, or at least vaguely satisfying life that had nothing to do with, and nothing for the old one.

Of course though, that's not how it happened. She really should have known better though, she's smarter than that.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Okay, I know, I know. I took _way _too long. But in my typical me fashion, I fell a little behind in school. And by a little I literally mean two essays and a quiz. But in my other truest form, I procrastinated my butt off about it until I couldn't procrastinate anymore. Aka if I didn't turn it in then it wouldn't receive any credit at all. Oh, I'm just such a good example. Anyway, as I mentioned before, this is all whim of my mind, so nothings pre planned, which whereas usually I pre plan at least a little. So bear with me y'all.

But for the most part I'm pretty okay with where it's going. But once again, just keep in minds since I'm just sort of writing these and then posting them all in one night, two at the most, they're not beta-ed and probably won't be. So no chopping my head off for not so obvious mistakes. Or, really let's be honest here, really obvious mistakes. But anyhow, now that I've managed to ramble on excessively, again, here's Chp. two. Enjoy!

R&R Baes, it's always appreciated.

Disclaimer: Yeah right.

Listening to: Ring of Fire- Johnny and June. (Yes I credit June too, she wrote it for him after all.)

* * *

They slept together that night. Hot and fast and heavy, everything she always thought it would be. With all the regret just moments after it ended, that she always knew would come.

It didn't happen right way, they both went home, to separate homes first. He kissed her, and he kissed her, and he kissed her in that locker room. But then Fin, of all people, busted in. Quick reflexes saved their asses so big that day, she's never been more thankful. She hauled ass out of there, grabbed her crap and made her way home literally as fast as she could manage. She actually took a cab, which never, ever happens. She always walks or takes the subway, because paying three times the amount to take a cab just seemed stupid. She didn't live _that_ far away. She did have that car, her lovely I'm not even midlife- midlife crisis. But she never drove that damn thing anyway.

But it wasn't long after she got home, changed into her sweats, and cracked open a brand new bottle of wine, that his fist was pounding on her door. She knew, the moment she heard it, it was him. 12 years and one of the loudest, most ridiculously distinct knocks she ever heard, and their absurd, abnormal, always in-sync connection that they've always seemed to have, how could she not?

Her hearts hardly ever raced so fast, but she made sure to keep herself nonchalant. She flung the door open, wine glass still in hand, and turned around to make her way back to the couch. No 'Hi", no 'Hello', no 'Hey partner, here to do that thing we've been trying to avoid for 12 years?'. Just let him in and walked away, like her heart wasn't about to thump right out of her chest and she wasn't about to throw up all over her living room floor.

He didn't waste much time though. At all.

She made it to the couch, sat down, pulled one of her legs up on the couch with her, and was pulled right back up. He pulled her flush against him, took her wine glass out of her hand and set it on her coffee table, all the while his eyes had one of the most lust filled looks she's ever seen in them. Then he kissed her. Hard, leaving no space for misinterpretation, no doubt in her mind, not like much had been there to start with, but anyway.

He backed himself out away from the couch, spun them around, and backed her towards her bedroom. Sometimes, when it's one of those days where she wants to blame just him, she conjures it up in her mind that he never gave her the chance to say no. But of course he did, he's Elliot. She knew what he was doing when he pulled her up off the couch, she could have pulled away then. He stopped them, just before the back of her knees hit the bed, and gave her the most intimate look she's ever seen come out of the man. He just looked like he loved her so, all the adoration seeping out of him, all the while she could still see the lust festering there. She could have told him no, or to wait, and not returned the look then. And then he asked her, "Are you sure, Liv." just before he entered her for the very first time and she knows exactly what came of her mouth, "Yes.".

Her heart still aches when she thinks about the moments following it all. She battled with herself for a while, whether she should let him stay, just for tonight, and then she could really hate herself tomorrow, or if she should just kick him out now, get it over with. Not have to ache when she wakes up to him in the morning, barely conscious, then has to watch him leave.

But ultimately, her panic won out. She turned her head to him, but she wouldn't look him in the eye, and told him just above a whisper, "You should go."

She chances a glance up at him from the spot of his sheet clad thigh she'd been staring at, and she sees his heart break. But she sees the objection come up, too.

He catches her eye, the best she will let him, and he asks her, nice and strong and solid and a little loud too, "Why?"

She tells him that he can't stay, that he just can't stay. That it's best if he just goes. But he's not buying it. They both end up out of bed, she keeps the sheet pulled around her and he pulls his boxers on. She keeps trying to repeat herself, he can't stay, he can't stay, he has to go, he has to go, he has to go _now_, in the midst of him trying to argue his own point back. That he's not just gonna run out, right after having sex with her. She's his partner and there's no way in hell he's gonna treat her like she's that cheap. But that's what she keeps trying to argue back to him, that he's her partner and that's literally entirely it, and that it doesn't matter, because she's kicking him out, she's making the decision, so it's okay.

He starts to argue back that it's not okay, but then he apparently just catches the end of what she said earlier. "Why _now_, Liv. Why not tomorrow?"

And she's the most honest with him she thinks she's ever been, "Because my heart can't take it. This is easier."

"Liv…" he tries to whisper, but she can't. She just can't.

"No, El. Just… just… _go."_

She expected there to be yelling, she expected him to argue back, to object, but he didn't. He just put his clothes on, gave her one last, terrifyingly heartbreaking look, and walked out of her bedroom. He did slam the door though, almost like the last little ending note on this terrible, heart crushing, love soaring, and falling, falling, falling, song of theirs. They weren't ever them again. And she still hates herself for telling him to leave.

* * *

She left three days later.

She told Capitan that she needed a change, and wanted to request a transfer. He asked her where and she wasn't surprised in the least when he questioned her about it.

"California." She told him. She knew he had connections over there.

The look on his face gave everything away. And she can't blame him. Her, Olivia Benson, New Yorker to the core whose heart belonged in Manhattan, wanted to take off for not only the West Coast, polar opposite of the East, but California. The most opposite of New York you could find without jetting off to another country. But she realizes too, just how cliché it is. Want to avoid New York? Want to forget all about it? Well then, California really is the perfect choice. The most predictable too.

But of course, she didn't tell him why she was _really_ leaving, so shock was the most logical choice. She thinks now though, that it really probably only took him about three seconds after that to confirm what he probably had in his head when she told him she wanted to leave, anyway. She didn't need a change, she needed to get her heart and her head away from her partner. For her sake, and his.

He asked her if she was sure, about a hundred times. She told him 'yes' and 'that it was what she felt she needed to do' about 60 of those times. The rest of the time she just gave him a look that told him that if he didn't stop asking her she was either going to lose her placidity or have to go running out of that office in an emotional frenzy. He stopped, but hesitantly.

He never asked her not to go, never outright anyway. Just gave her every look he had in him, and pulled out puppy dog eyes that she didn't think Capitan Donald Cragen was capable of. He made sure she knew how he felt, and she still misses him every single day, to this day. After all, that man was her father, the one she leaned on and emotionally let herself rely on, for 12 years. They've kept in touch a lot, because she refused to let herself stray from a man who has done so much and meant so much to her, but still, it's a big loss.

Speaking of emotionally relying on someone, her partner.

She tried to stick it out, she didn't want to go. Not at first anyway, but in the end, every time she looked at him, or heard his voice, or even heard someone say his name, she pictured him in her bed. Next to her, under her, on top of her. She couldn't get the images out of her head. It made her feel so guilty, and it made her want more. But then she'd see his face when she told him to leave, and that look he gave when he finally admitted defeat and was walking out her bedroom door. That one hurt more than anything, and it so profoundly affected her more that the images of them together, that she just couldn't handle it.

She didn't tell him before hand, matter of a fact, she didn't tell him at all. She's sure it was probably Cap., or munch, or Fin the next day. And she knows that was the lowest blow and she feels like a complete jackass for it. She knows that up and leaving is a sore spot for them, especially for him. She's done it too many times, but it's like it's this compulsion that she just can't stop. But maybe she's just a coward and can't face him, because she knows that all he would have to do would be to tell her to stay, and she damn well would. Those icy blues could get her every time.

* * *

She didn't stay in California long. She transferred to their SVU because she knew in her heart that was the work she was most meant to do, and she honestly couldn't see herself doing anything else. She didn't want to see herself doing anything else, either.

But it didn't take long, before she realized that without her partner, the job just wasn't the same. No matter how hard she tried to find other coping mechanisms, she just kept realizing that without her partner to lean on, this job was much more draining that ever before. She did have a partner, and don't get her wrong he was great. But that's just it, that's all he was, her partner. Not a friend, not a confidant, not a kindred yet completely opposite soul that save for very rare occasions, she could always count on being there. He wasn't Elliot.

She picked up and moved to Utah six weeks after getting to California. Just packed all of her crap in that damn midlife crisis of hers, paid a moving company to move the big things, again, and left. Of course, she really should have had to put in her two weeks. But, she thinks, when you're former Captain/father figure is Donald Cragen, strings can be pulled. And, she's pretty sure they all saw it coming anyway. She never really did get comfortable there. Hell, she thinks she only unpacked four boxes.

She feels bad about just up and leaving that squad, because they were all good people and her being there was still in that newness period and they didn't deserve to be left hanging and have to be left with whatever new replacement that IAB sent in. But she realized that if she could leave her family back at her old squad hanging like that, people that she worked for at the minimum 11 years, people who a brand new replacement was going to affect much more, than she could do it to people she barely knew. Besides, the sun hurt her eyes. California was just too damn bright. She missed states where it rained more, and where they knew what it was like to have dreary days more than 6 days out of the year. And be damned if she didn't want to admit it, she missed the cold.

Utah was more her, but still far enough from New York that she felt like she was still in her effectively avoiding her partner comfort zone. And it made it easier to guard her heart, and to guard his from her.

* * *

She decided that it wasn't going to matter where she went, or what changes she made, being a cop just wasn't going to work anymore. She told herself, all those years ago when she got word from her Captain about moving to SVU that if there ever came a day, where she felt like she couldn't effectively give every bit of her career self to victims and cases and justice, then she'd leave. Move on and find something else to do, something else her heart was content with. What she didn't know then though, was that she'd end up giving all of herself, save for that little part that was reserved for her partner, to victims and cases and justice. Not just the side set aside for her career. She didn't know either that the only thing that her heart was ever going to want her to do, was be a cop. More specifically, one at SVU.

But that's exactly how she felt when she left California, that she couldn't give all of herself to the victims. And being a cop without him, just felt wrong. And she hates herself for that. He wasn't what made her become a cop, and he wasn't what made her enter SVU, but from the moment she met him, everything changed. Her heart included. And too, there were other variables to take into consideration now.

So she retired. Took her pension and ran. Felt strange, gut wrenchingly weird, for about the first... year. Nothing felt right and she felt empty. But she had been a cop for so damn long, and given so damn much of herself, that it only made sense that it did. She did nothing for about a month. She just couldn't bring herself to find a different job, to be something that wasn't a cop just yet. So she lived off her pension in her typical Olivia fashion, not buying much more than she needed but being picky and specific about the things she did buy, and looked around a little, casually, for something else.

Then one day she found it. It's simple and easy and non-committal, compared to being a cop, but it works. She works for an Account money managing firm, she's a consultant. Essentially she helps tell companies accounting departments how to spend and delegate their money if their having trouble doing so. It's boring, and it isn't dangerous in the slightest, but it works and pays well and she's happy. She doesn't mind working with money and she likes getting to work with computers a little more again, and she likes the office she works in and her coworkers. And her boss isn't a jackass, so that's nice. And it's got nine to five, literally, hours. Ridiculously strange to her, still, but fine. She likes getting to have more than four hours of sleep, though admittedly she's still stays up until at least 12 and is usually back up at six, seven at the latest to go run in the park a block over. It's in her system though, she can't shake it. But having the option for eight hours is nice.

She bought a house too, can you say culture shock. She now had over 2,000 square feet to work with. Which, though her apartment was pretty damn big for the city, its huge compared to what she's used to. A New Yorker, always a city girl, trying to adjust to a house, that she owns... hilarious.

She painted and bought furniture and a porch swing and a kitchen table, that's probably the size of her bathroom in New York, and she likes it.

And then, six months into living there, eight and a half months after leaving Manhattan, and just after she bought her nice house and decided that she would after all stay at her job and not have a major freak out and bail back for New York, she met someone.


	3. Chapter 3

So for any of you that guessed what's happening next, who she met, bravo. Any of you that guessed the pretty much only other obvious direction this could have went, don't worry, that's what I had originally intended. But then I ended the last chapter and that just didn't feel right, so this did. This was always intended anyway, just not right this second, at the begging of this chapter. Maybe by the next one, I don't know, just not this soon. But I just scrapped that original idea and decided this is what I wanted the story to be anyhow, so here ya go. Enjoy, baes.

Oh, and one more thing. So I noticed I seem to updating this about once a month, like literally almost to the day, and that's totally not how it was intended. School has just been one giant pain in the you know what, so I've literally either been preoccupied with mounds of work and crap, or too tired to even tell you my ABCs, let alone write. Or I'll get it written without passing out face first and crushing my laptop, and then I'll forget about posting it and then, oh look it's like 6 days later and it's almost been a month since the last chapter I've gotta post it. But our last day is June 3rd (which if you're a Gilmore Girls fan you'd understand why that is completely painful), and I graduate June 7th. So from then after I should have literally no reason to be preoccupied, so updates should get closer together.

Disclaimer: In my friggin dreams.

R&R Cheries, always appreciated.

* * *

She met her little girl.

Sweet, wonderful, everything she's ever imagined. Everything she's ever wanted. And everything, that she long ago, save for her dreams, convinced herself she'd never have.

She found out after she left, about three weeks after she left, thought about calling him, didn't. Felt like, will always feel like, the worst person in the world for not. She knew, knows, that if she had, he would've tracked her down, told Cap. where he was going, and been on the next plane to her before she could take off for anywhere. Biggest regret that takes telling him to leave that mornings spot? Not telling him, literally the day she found out.

She told Cap. Three weeks after she found out. He yelled at her, middle named her, told her she was in hot ass water for waiting three damn weeks to tell him. Six weeks in was just too long for him to be in the dark about what was practically his own flesh and blood, damn it, he'd told her. She cried, he asked her if she wanted him to come out, because he would. Fly out on the next plane he could get, just tell IAB it was a family emergency, let them deal with the fact that they knew he had no family. Make an excuse and not tell Elliot, because of course, he knew. He always knew. And he'd never tell him if she didn't want him to. Which of course, because he knew her like nothing else, she wouldn't. She told him not to, of course. She doesn't know why, why she _really_ wouldn't let him come. She knew it would raise too many suspicions, that there was no way El would let him get out of there without telling him, and quite frankly probably making him take him with him. Fin would be immediately concerned, which would set off Munch's alarms, questions upon questions would just keep coming in, she'd wake up one morning to not just have her support system standing on her doorstep, but to have half of that support system be the father of the baby who she'd purposely neglected to call. Too dramatic, she didn't want to trouble him, wasn't worth it she'd be alright. She knows that there's a deeper reason, deeper reasons, though. But that's for another day.

That wasn't the reason she felt like she couldn't give all of herself to the victims anymore though. She felt like, always felt like when she dreamt about it happening, that she could still give enough. But she was just too tired. Too worn down, too overworked, too done, especially without her partner. Which or course, carrying her partners baby only made more prominent in her mind.

So she did what she did and moved to Utah and stopped being a cop and decided to be as relatively normal as possible. Of course, she wasn't born to be normal, so she never will. But she thinks she's come pretty close.

She was born on a Saturday morning, 6:15 a.m on the dot. Early bird, just like her Momma. Still is, too. Which was just fantastic in those early months where she was up every 2 and half hours to feed her, essentially making her a walking zombie. Sleep depravation; thought she knew it like the back of her hand, being a cop and all, but boy was she wrong.

It was a sunny morning, sun high and bright in the clouds, and the only thing she kept thinking was maybe the fact that her little girl was being brought into the world on such a bright day, meant that she'd get to have a bright, happy life. Unlike her Mother's, up until that point, grey, dreary, awful. It gave her hope, optimism.

She was 6 pounds, 5 ounces. Tiny. So, so tiny. And perfect. Perfect brown hair, beautiful long limbs, 21 inches long, she was. Tall, like her Momma, a nurse had said. Long fingers and toes, ten of each, Liv had counted, twice. The nurses just smiled at her, told her she looked like a new Mom in love and she doesn't know if she's ever heard anything more true. Up until her birth, she'd felt distant from her. Wondered here and there if she should be feeling more connected than she was, all through out her pregnancy. Now don't get her wrong, she felt connected at times. So connected to this tiny little thing sometimes, that she thought she might burst. But she just felt like she should feel _more._ This sweet, perfect, perfect thing was part her and part El. She was all she ever wanted and believed she might never get. She was what she'd waited on for so many years, why didn't she feel more in touch? She was terrified that this little girl would come out of her, and nothing would change. She'd feel the same. She wonders now though, if that maybe she was just still terrified, that if she had just waited so long, had it taken from her so many times, that maybe it just didn't feel real until she was here. That she still felt just out of reach all along, until she was cradling this beautiful thing on her chest, and giving the nurses a name. Nora Eloise Benson.

She considered Stabler. She really, really did. But she didn't know when she'd tell El, how she'd tell El, if she'd ever tell El. She didn't know if Nora would ever know El, and vise versa. She didn't know what life would hold 5 minutes from now, let alone ten years. So she stuck with the safe option. And besides, she's Olivia Benson, she doesn't believe in all that crap about it being morally wrong for a child not to have a Fathers name, and it being dishonoring to the Father for them not to. Besides, she clearly wasn't too good at moral reasoning. After all, she had a kid with her partner, and then didn't tell him. So she decided to be her strong willed, independent self, and name her child after herself. They're Bensons damn it, and that's the way she wanted it. She had to admit though, when picking her name, she did consider, heavily, what El would think of it. And she remembered one day, and she'll never know why it sticks out in her mind so much, a Vic's sister's name being Eloise, and El making some half assed while flipping trough a file and scarfing down Chinese food upstairs on that old, disgusting, gross couch, how pretty of a name it was. Apparently her brain cataloged and recessed it for the very moment when naming her and Elliot's daughter would come. But besides, she thinks it's pretty too, so to hell with her brain, she can name her that for her own reasons. Damn it.

Cap. flew out when she was born. The day she was born, matter a fact. Got to the hospital at three p.m. Met his granddaughter at 3:11, precisely. Olivia checked, documented it in her brain, cataloged it and stored it for later, to write it in the ridiculous, pink, obscene with little baby duckies baby book she had bought her randomly one day after work. The damn thing just kept mocking her every time she walked by it in the store. She felt stupid buying it, ducked her head the entire time at the register. But she wanted to remember everything, or at least everything she remembered to write down. She heard those things can kinda end up being useless and end up being half filled out and you don't realize it or care until the kids 15. And she realized too, once she left the store, that she had the golden ticket, that beautiful little girl hanging out in her stomach. She had the _right_ now, it _wasn't_ weird. A mind set that took her a long time to get used to.

He walked in, took off his sunglasses like he was hot shit, and demanded she give him that little girl. So she handed her over, sat back on her bed, and was fine. For like, five seconds. Until Don called her his granddaughter and that he, and her mommy, had waited a long time to meet her. She lost it then, out right sobbed. Don look up for about three seconds, long enough to just glance, cause apparently she took him off guard, but then he looked back down. Apparently its perfectly normal for new moms to randomly and openly sob. Crazy hormones, or something. She experienced that when she was pregnant, the day she both the baby book actually. Went home, sat down in the one peirce of furniture in the unpainted nursery. An old, gorgeous, surprisingly comfortable rocking chair she had come across one day, one block over at a garage sale, on her cool down walk from her run, asked them if they could hold for 5 minutes, went home, got the money, then convinced one of the neighbor guys to carry it home for her, cause you know, she was pregnant and all and that was literally all she had to say and his wife smacked him on the arm and told him not to be an ass, got him to carry upstairs, too, and cried. She wasn't prepared for it to keep happening after the baby was here though. Even though she'd read every article, blog, book, watched every video and show possible to know as much as possible about pregnancy, life after baby, and baby. She was just a mess, she guesses. Hormones, blaming it all on hormones.

He stayed for three days, stayed at her place for the two days she was in the hospital, told her he wasn't forking over money for a hotel now that she had this big fancy house, and stayed the first night with her. Which was nice, she had assumed she would be alone. Most people have their spouses with them, and at the least their parents come to stay a few days. None of which she had. Until Don showed up, and imparted his wisdom on her. Hogged her daughter, too. She didn't mind though, not one damn bit. Reveled in it, actually.

He went back to New York on Tuesday morning, but not before he made sure to tell her how fucked up it was that Elliot didn't know. And that he'd always be there to defend her, go to bat for her, but not to forget that Elliot was practically his kid too, and that he couldn't just see one side in this. He told her to call him, to call Elliot, when she felt like she was ready. She argued she might never be ready, he told her that was bull. That one day she was gonna wake up and see just how much that little girl's face looked like her father's, and ache for him to see her. To know her, to experience her wonder, her beauty, just how incredible she was. And she was gonna miss him too, even more than before the baby, even more than now. One day she'd want him to know his little girl, his little girl that was part the one he loved, but could never catch. She told him he was too damn sentimental, and that she'd call him to make sure his plane didn't drop over Kansas somewhere.

But Cap. was right, of course. And one day, she did miss him, one day she did wake up and realize just how much her daughter looked like Elliot, and one day, she did call him.

* * *

So, I know Cap is a little more, I don't know, eccentric, in this story than he ever was on the show. And I know I seem to be focusing more on Liv and Cap and their relationship than anyone else or her relationship with anyone else, but I promise that's gonna change soon. That's just kinda how it came out, since I'm not planning these out beforehand. And I know that their relationship seems to be a little more intense and abrasive than we ever got to actually _see_ on the show, but that's just how it worked out. And hey, it's fan_fiction, _right? Meaning I get to write it and see it how ever I want. And I know I'm emphasizing the father daughter relationship a lot, but then again it was mentioned, at least in the sense of El and Liv practically being his kids, that Liv was his daughter, more than once over the years. And come on, you cant watch the show and not get assaulted with that feeling. I mean, look how many damn times poor Don willingly risked his career for these two idiots. But anyhow, just wanted to get that out of the way before someone noticed and had a cow. So, yeah. Once again per my usual self, way too long AN over now.

Next up: Elliot.


End file.
